Gray Bishop (26 page)

“I know.”

“I thought you might have noticed.”

He grunted. “Colin?”

“Defeated. You did good.”

“Tired.”

“You’ll get to rest soon, I promise.”

His right hand curled around her wrist and squeezed. “Stay close.”

“As close as I can. Alpha.”

“Six days left.”

“No one else is going to challenge him,” Rook said.

“How can you be sure?” Jillian asked. He sounded so confident, and she recalled Bishop’s words from only a few hours earlier. “Is this to do with whatever Colin told Bishop the night he arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Do I get to know now?”

“Later,” Bishop said. “Not here.”

Not with so many other ears around.

“Truck’s here,” Devlin said, his voice barely carrying over the din. “Can he stand?”

“Yes, he can stand,” Bishop said.

And he did. With a lot of grunting and pain, Bishop limped out of the barn on his own two feet, Jillian at his side the entire way—exactly where she wanted to be.

Joy.

So much joy, from all around him, rising up over the tide of grief that had held him down for so long. The joy was light, like spun sugar, dancing all around him. Filling him to bursting. Carrying him up out of the darkness he’d hidden in, reminding him of the good still out there. Everything he was missing.

His limbs were heavy, weighed down, difficult to move. His head ached now, pain he’d forgotten while in the dark. Pain he wanted to hide from again, but then he’d miss out on the joy. He had to know the reason behind it. Had to know why his people were celebrating.

He fought against the weight, fought to get his eyes open. He remembered how but it had been so long.

A distant voice, feminine and familiar, was speaking. Saying a word over and over. His name. Yes, he knew his name. He knew hers, too.

Shay.

He pushed up. Something warm was on his hand. His face. Her spring grass scent filled his senses. He clung to that, allowing it to lure him back. The ache in his head dimmed under the power of her nearness. His lips parted. Something cold and wet brushed against them.

Ice.

His voice wasn’t working, so he tried his eyes again. Peeled the lids apart little by little, until she came into focus. So beautiful. Determined.

“Shay.”

“Welcome back.” Her voice was a melody he’d never tire of hearing. He’d heard it often, echoing from beyond the darkness. He’d wanted to go to her so many times. She never left him. “We missed you, Knight.”

He blinked hard, taking in the room. Not his room. One at Dr. Mike’s. “W’happened?”

“Three days ago you force-shifted. You were feral for a little while. I got you back, but you’ve been unconscious.”

Three days. Force-shift.

Shame hit him all at once. Shame for losing it like that, for causing his family so much worry. For not being strong enough to handle everything that had happened. He’d let down his brothers and his run.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Shay cupped his cheeks and leaned down, warm breath fanning over his cheeks. “You went away, but you came back. Focus on that, okay? You came back, and we’ll get through this.”

He believed her. He didn’t know why but he did. And all around him, he still sensed joy. And relief. It overpowered the faint fog of darkness still lurking deep down. “They’re happy.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, then quickly smoothed out. “We’re celebrating Bishop’s victory. He was challenged for Alpha in hand-to-hand combat, and he won.”

Pride swelled his chest. Bishop’s win didn’t surprise him, nor did the fact that he was challenged. Somehow he’d known that. Perhaps Knight had been listening even when he couldn’t hear the words. “He okay?”

“He’s resting at home now. The fight was this morning. He re-broke his arm and sustained a concussion, as well as a lot of bruising. But he’ll be fine.”

“The other one?”

“Colin. Bishop spared his life. He’s resting two rooms down.”

“His father sent him.”

“What?”

Knight wasn’t certain how he knew that but he did. “Doesn’t matter.” For the first time, he became keenly aware of the reason for his trouble talking—a tube down his nose and throat.

“Hey, don’t mess with that.” Shay pulled his hand away from his face. “I’ll go get Dr. Mike so he can take it out. We had to feed you somehow.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for taking care of you, Knight. You took care of me once. I’m returning the favor.”

“Do another?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t tell yet.”

“Don’t tell who? Your brothers?”

He nodded.

Shay smiled. “Because Bishop will want to rush right over here to see you, and he needs his rest, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s our secret for now. But Rook’s been over here about once an hour since the fight, so I can’t promise for how long.”

As though summoned by his name, heavy footsteps outside the door were followed by a gentle knock. Shay stood and faced the door, still holding Knight’s hand. Rook opened the door, his concern shifting into shock as his eyes met Knight’s.

“Holy shit, you’re awake.” Rook stared, openmouthed.

Knight opened himself to his brother’s utter relief and happiness, bathing in the positive emotions when all he’d been able to feel for so long were negative ones. Shay squeezed his hand, then stepped away from the bed. Rook stumbled forward and all but collapsed on the mattress next to him, making the whole thing bounce.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Rook said. “We’d already lost dad. We couldn’t have stood losing you, too, you big idiot.”

Knight’s throat tightened. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have paid closer attention. Bishop and me both should have, and we didn’t. You had so much on your shoulders, and we didn’t see it.”

“Didn’t want you to.”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t get to bottle things up anymore. You don’t get to hide. We need you too much. This town needs you.”

Knight grabbed Rook’s wrist and squeezed tight, hoping to put his gratitude in that because he couldn’t say it. No words existed.

He wasn’t okay. He had a lot of healing to do and emotions to sort out. Grief to work through over some things, anger over others. But he had time. And more than anything, he knew as he glanced over at Shay, he had love to help him find his way.

***

Bishop resented being in a cast and sling, but Dr. Mike wasn’t allowing him to shift yet because of his head. He didn’t recall whacking it on the ground that hard. He’d concussed himself, though, and had been told more than once he was lucky he hadn’t fractured his skull. So he spent a long, frustrating afternoon and evening being woken up every few hours to have a penlight shined in his eyes. Sometimes by Dr. Mike, sometimes by Rachel.

Every time he woke up, though, Jillian was there. Reading in a chair, napping at the foot of the bed. There. Rook stopped in a few times. During the last he’d practically bounced on the balls of his feet. And as the sun rose on the first full day post-fight, Bishop woke to find a delightfully unexpected face staring down at him.

“You look like hell,” Knight said. He was smiling, the color back in his skin, the life back in his eyes. So much like the Knight from a month ago. Only the faintest shadow still lingered from his ordeal.

“I hope so, because I feel like it.” He poked Knight in the chest.

“Ow. Really?”

“Making sure you’re real.” He tried to sit up, but his bruised ribs protested the action.

Knight put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Relax, champ, you earned it. And if you’re thinking about chewing my ears off for scaring you to death, Rook beat you to it.”

Someone snickered. Bishop glanced at the door. Rook leaned there, arms folded. For the first time since yesterday, Jillian wasn’t in the room. It was Bishop and his brothers. Both of them.

“I’m thinking I need to apologize,” Bishop said.

Knight frowned. “For what?”

“That’s a long damned list. For not protecting you when you were three. For not protecting you from Victoria. For not seeing how much pain you were in. For not saving our father. For leaving you alone with your grief and rage instead of sitting on you until you talked to me.”

Sorrow creased Knight’s face and drooped his shoulders. “Bishop, you nearly died trying to save me when I was three, and you couldn’t have protected me from Victoria even if you hadn’t been on your quarterly shift. I made the decision to go out there and try to save Rook. Me. And I made the decision to lie about what she did. That’s on me, not you.”

“And our father’s death isn’t on any of us,” Rook said. He approached the bed, then sat on the opposite side of Knight. “He died saving people he loved. There’s no greater honor than that.”

“Was he in pain?”

“Some,” Bishop replied. “But Rook and I were there. He wasn’t alone.”

“I wish I’d been there.”

“I think it helped him knowing you were safe.” Bishop wasn’t certain if his words were true, but they cleared some of the anguish from Knight’s eyes and replaced it with a gentler kind of sadness. “And he’d be proud of you. It’s rare that a feral loup comes back from a forced shift.”

“I don’t know that I would have without Shay.”

“She’s a very special woman. Stronger than I gave her credit for.”

“Speaking of special women, are congratulations in order? Alpha McQueen.”

Bishop grinned. “Five more days, don’t jinx me.”

“No one wants a town in the middle of a war. Especially one with a crazy White Wolf and an inn full of half-breeds. You’re Alpha now, Bishop, and you know it.”

“So does Jillian,” Rook said. “I overheard her whispering with Brynn about wedding dresses. I don’t know whose wedding they were talking about but Jillian’s the Alpha female and our big brother’s future wife.”

Bishop enjoyed the pride those statements gave him. Alpha. His wife.

His mate.

“Oh no, he’s doing it, too,” Knight said.

Bishop blinked. “Doing what?”

“That same dreamy, faraway look Rook gets when he’s thinking about Brynn.”

“I do not,” Rook said.

“Yes, you do.”

Rook grimaced. “Do you think anyone else notices? I have a reputation, you know.”

“Yeah, the badass enforcer who was knocked for a loop by a pint-sized Magus.” Knight jerked out of reach of Rook’s knuckles, chuckling.

“Hey, my pint-sized Magus beat up a beast with a shovel. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, I know, avoid Brynn when she’s holding gardening equipment.”

Both of his brothers laughed, their good-natured ribbing something Bishop had missed terribly in the weeks since the hybrids’ first attack. They all had healing to do, Knight most of all, but their family was back together. Bishop’s victory yesterday morning had given Cornerstone back something its residents needed terribly: hope.

They chatted and teased a while longer, sharing memories of their father—mostly his reactions to their combined shenanigans as children. It hurt less to think about him, and Bishop was glad to share the moment with Rook and Knight. To share their love and their grief, instead of pretending it didn’t exist.

Jillian came up a while later with a breakfast tray and shooed them both out. She helped him sit up with a bit of effort and pain, then tucked some extra pillows behind his head. He caught her scent. It stirred his beast, who craved her touch. Her taste. All of her.

Too bad his body was busted up, or he’d have made good use of his bed.

She’d brought herself a plate of eggs and sausage, and they shared the tray while they ate. Such a simple, domestic thing to do. He studied her without staring, humbled by the gift he’d been given in her. In knowing he’d found his mate and what it had cost them both in the end. He would do their fathers proud.

“I love you,” he said.

Jillian froze with her fork hovering above a piece of sausage. Slowly she raised her head, meeting his eyes. A slow smile quirked her lips. Her eyes sparkled. “I didn’t think you’d let yourself feel it, much less say it, Mr. Five More Days, Don’t Jinx Me.”

He chuckled at her teasing, even though it hurt his ribs. “I feel a lot of things when I’m with you, and love is definitely one of them.”

“Name something else.”

“Respect. Gratitude. Insane amounts of lust.”

“Oh? Tell me more about the lust.”

“I would but I’m not really in any position to do more than use dirty words. But I do seem to recall a promise involving a bed and black, lacy underthings.”

Jillian moved the food tray out of the way, then leaned forward, supporting her weight on one hand. “Should an Alpha be thinking such racy things about his future wife?”

“I sure as hell hope so, because we’re just getting started, sweetheart. We’ve got our whole lives to spend figuring out the very best, dirtiest ways to make you orgasm.”

“Looking forward to it.” She dipped her head, her soft lips a bare whisper across his. “By the way? I love you, too.”

He was smiling when he kissed her. Still smiling a long while later when they stopped kissing and Jillian curled her slim body around his. She settled her head on his right shoulder, one palm flat over his heart. He inhaled her apple blossom scent, knowing that very soon he would wake up to it every morning, and go to bed with it every night.

He was still smiling when he fell into a light doze, happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

Larry Drake presided over the happy couple and the small gathering in the McQueen home’s backyard. As the town’s ordained minister, Larry performed all of the marriage ceremonies in Cornerstone, and this was his first under Bishop’s time as Alpha.

Officially Alpha as of yesterday, when the ten-day challenge period ended and the other run Alphas recognized him as such. Eager to feed the town’s good spirits post-challenge win, Bishop had been more than happy to give his blessing to Devlin and Rachel, who had married last night. He wanted his people to focus on the positive things in life, instead of the siege they were still under, and few things were more positive than a wedding.

Nothing was more positive than two weddings in two days, and now Bishop was standing not only as Alpha, but also as attendant for Rook’s marriage to Brynn, making what their hearts and beasts already knew a legal reality. Four of Bishop’s people were finding joy in the middle of so much horror, and he was beyond happy for all of them.

“You can read your vows now,” Larry said. He was a soft-spoken man and his voice didn’t have to carry far. The guest list was small. Shay was standing with Brynn, such a physical opposite it was hard to remember they were half-sisters. Both of the women wore simple dresses and had pink roses in their hair.

The other witnesses stood in a semicircle on the lawn: Mrs. Troost, Dr. Mike, Knight, Jillian, Jonas, Winston, and Devlin and his wife, Rachel.

Rook clasped both of Brynn’s hands in his. “When I first met you, I was unsure of my path or of what I wanted for my future. You helped me see my future clearly for the first time in my life, and my future is with you. We came together under extraordinary circumstances, which is only fair seeing as you’re an extraordinary woman.”

Brynn’s cheeks darkened, even as tears sparked in her wide blue eyes.

“I love you, Brynn Atwood, and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that every single day.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, glistening in the sunlight. “Rook, I didn’t know who I was before I walked into Cornerstone. Very literally.”

Rook laughed softly. Bishop smiled fondly at the girl who’d captured his brother’s heart. She’d spent the first twenty-three years of her life not knowing she was half loup. Not knowing she had other family out there. A family who embraced her and her gift.

“We’ve come a long way from those first few hours. You welcomed me into your home and your family, and you showed me a kind of trust that I’ve never experienced before. You showed me how to believe in myself and how to stand up for myself. You’re my very best friend, the other half of my heart, and I am blessed to have found you. I love you so much.”

Bishop glanced at Jillian, who met his gaze with a smile. Their own time would come soon. He’d insisted on giving Rook and Brynn a chance at the spotlight for a while, because Alpha weddings were considered big events. All of the Alphas were meant to travel to the celebrating town, and with everything happening around Cornerstone, Bishop was working with Weatherly on an alternative. He didn’t want to wait to marry Jillian—not any longer than absolutely necessary.

They had a run to look after.

Larry talked Brynn and Rook through the official statements, then asked for the rings.

Rook slid the simple gold band onto Brynn’s finger. “With this ring, I wed you.”

Brynn wiped her eyes before taking another band and placing it on Rook’s finger. “With this ring, I wed you.”

“Excellent,” Larry said. “And by the power given to me by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

Rook didn’t wait for permission. He took his wife in his arms and kissed her soundly to the cheers and clapping of his witnesses. Bishop stepped back, heart swelling with pride for his little brother’s happiness. Others came forward to congratulate the new couple, while Bishop took a moment to shake Larry’s hand and thank him for his services.

A warm body slid in behind his. A hand came to rest on his hip. He breathed in Jillian’s scent, his beast instinctively stirring at his mate’s nearness. “This was a good idea,” she whispered.

“Everyone needs to remember that there’s so much to live for.” He covered the smaller hand on his hip and squeezed. “So much worth fighting for.”

“That will be us one day.”

“One day soon. Count on that.” He tugged Jillian away from the small gathering, to what little privacy the rear of the garden shed provided. She fell easily into his arms, molding her body against his, her chin resting on his shoulder. “These are the moments worth fighting for.”

“I know.” She pulled back far enough to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with emotion. “Brynn once told me that she believes everything happens for a reason. That I lost my father in order to find my mate. The other half of my heart.”

“I hate that you’ve lost so much.”

“But look at what I’ve gained. I have something with you that I never had with Derek. I’ll never stop missing him or my father, but I would never give up with we have.”

“Neither would I. I love you. I’ll fight to my last breath to protect you and our family. You’re mine, Jillian. My mate, my future wife. Mine.”

“And you’re mine.”

Her kiss caught him by surprise, hard and claiming, sealing the promises they’d made to each other as completely as any wedding vows. He slid his tongue into her mouth, immersing himself in the scent and taste he knew so well and would never tire of. In the glide of her own tongue against his. The press of her soft lips. A clever hand that stole around to clasp the back of his neck.

He broke the kiss before it carried them too far in the bright light of day, with their family lingering nearby. “Hold that thought for a few more days, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Oh I will.”

A distant boom, like a faraway thunderclap, startled Bishop into looking at the sky. Not a cloud in sight in the bright blue heavens. The oddity stuck with him, and he had his cell phone out before it began ringing.

A.J.’s name on the screen. Concern growing, Bishop wandered into the yard before answering. “Did you hear that sound a few moments ago?”

“It’s the auction house,” A.J. said, his usually calm voice stressed. “There was some kind of explosion, and it’s on fire.”

Ice skittered down Bishop’s spine and settled deep in his gut. “Was anyone inside?”

“I don’t know, the explosion was in the main entrance. I’m going around back to check the dock doors.”

“Get the water truck down there now. I’m on my way.” Bishop turned, hoping to grab Devlin and make a discreet exit, but every person in the yard was staring at him in silence. Curious and concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Rook asked.

“The auction house is on fire. Dr. Mike—”

“I’ll grab my gear and be on my way over,” Dr. Mike said, already moving with Rachel in tow.

Bishop ran across the yard and through the house, trusting the others to follow him. “This might be some sort of distraction, so I need Brynn and Shay to stay in the house with Mrs. Troost. Winston?”

“I’ll stay here with them,” Winston said.

“Good. And alert the other enforcers of what’s happening.”

“On it.”

Bishop ran down the street faster than he ever thought possible, barely managing to breathe through his anger and worry. He didn’t pause to see who was following him, and he smelled the smoke before he turned onto Main Street. Flames licked out of the front windows of the auction house and spun high from the roof, trailing into a thick cloud of gray smoke, all visible even from a distance.

The closer he got, the thicker the air and denser the heat. His chest pulled tight. Fire had consumed the entire front of the auction house. Folks were running toward it, dousing the unburned sides with buckets of water, trying to contain it. Three of the young enforcers from Springwell sat in the street, their clothes and skin sooty.

“Christ,” Rook said, coming to a panting stop beside Bishop. “Who was inside?”

“I don’t know.”

Bishop raced around to the side loading doors where they took consignment deliveries. One of the double doors was standing open, more smoke filtering out. He bolted up the steps without thinking and plunged into hell.

“Bishop, wait!”

Might have been Rook. He didn’t stop to answer. All of the tables and chairs from the auction floor had been stored in the back room where they usually sorted consigned items before sale placement. Good stuff on the tables, junk in the boxed lots. The crammed room had little space to maneuver, the air was thick with heat and smoke, and Bishop collided with a woman whose name might have been Josslyn.

Jasmine? He was still learning all of the new faces.

“Keep going toward the fresh air.” He got her behind him, only to have Rook come up on his six.

“You’re nuts,” Rook snapped.

“You’re both nuts.” Knight appeared behind him, a hand over his mouth.

“Come on,” Bishop said.

The door to the main floor framed a raging inferno full of flames, smoke, and the eye-watering stench of chemicals. No way had the explosion been an accident. A fire needed some sort of accelerant to burn this hot this fast. Many of the temporary partitions were knocked down or burning, creating a maze of fire that was impossible to navigate.

“A.J.!” Bishop squinted through watering eyes.

“Here!”

He moved toward the voice, aware of his brothers following close, past an overturned partition wall. Directly in front of him, the second-story office had collapsed, probably from the force of the explosion. The desk was on the ground, shattered. The wood beams creating the wall had fallen on top of the concession area, crushing the ceiling down against the counter. A.J. was crouched by the woodpile, reaching through.

“How many?” Bishop asked.

“At least three.” A.J.’s face was gray, his eyes watering from the smoke. “I can’t get any leverage.”

“Be right back,” Rook said, then darted out the way they came in.

Bishop studied the heavy beams and their odd angles, uncertain the best way to move them. The wrong direction and the weight could collapse farther on top of the trapped loup. Someone on the other side yelled, the sound muffled.

“Jeremiah said he can see fire,” A.J. reported.

“Shit.”

Rook reappeared with an ax. He moved to the far right end of the counter, where the roof had come down but not crushed the counter itself. He measured up and started to swing. The paneling cracked easily under his strength, and in half a minute he had a man-sized hole. He dropped the ax and poked his head through, hollering something.

A moment later, a young woman popped through. Rook hooked his hands under her armpits and pulled her out. She had a gash on her leg and a big bruise on her knee. Knight scooped her up and ran for the back door.

While A.J. and Rook freed the others, Bishop shouted for anyone else who needed help, but his voice was lost to the roar of the fire. He explored as far as he dared, but the fire was licking up the walls, across the ceiling. They’d lose their exit in minutes.

A.J. helped Jeremiah limp out. The Springwell transplant’s left leg was a ragged mess. The third loup through the hole was red-faced Benson.

“Anyone else?” Rook asked.

“No.”

“Get him out of here,” Bishop said. “I’m right behind you.”

With the last pair heading into the back room, Bishop retreated slowly. Time seemed to stand still as the full weight of this moment struck him in the gut. Their town’s main source of income—his father’s legacy—was burning to the ground. Deliberately set. He glanced up at the podium where Father had overseen hundreds, if not thousands of auctions. Sold hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of property. The fire hadn’t quite reached it.

Bishop vaulted over a pile of burning debris, the fire missing his jeans by mere inches. The smoke was choking him, making it impossible to breathe, but he saw it. He saw it, he grabbed it, and then he ran hard for the exit. Something fell from the ceiling and crashed into the floor. Shouts outside. More heat.

He burst through the loading dock door as part of the ceiling collapsed, sending a cloud of hot, smoky air blasting through. Bishop scrambled away, the hot pavement scraping his palms, coughing so hard he nearly turned out his stomach. Knight grabbed him around the waist and hauled him deeper into the parking lot, away from the heat. They collapsed on the ground.

“That was not right behind me, you jerk,” Rook said, looming over them both.

“Sorry.” Bishop held up their father’s gavel. “Had to get this first.”

Knight reverently took it from his hand. “Is this really happening?”

“Yes it is.” Bishop stared at the building as it succumbed to the fire.

The water truck had arrived. Cornerstone was too small for a fire company and too far away to rely on humans for help. They had a water tanker truck fully loaded at all times, with a cannon on the back for spraying. Their grandfather had modified a dust suppression truck once upon a time. It didn’t have enough power or capacity to put out the auction house fire, but they could control the burn and keep it from spreading.

Dozens of loup filled the streets, some still racing forward with buckets of water. Patrick Lester was wrangling someone’s garden hose. Devlin was helping Rachel bandage Jeremiah’s leg. Jillian jogged over with bottles of water for them. Bishop dumped one right over his head, letting the cold water stream down his face and neck.

“Is anyone dead?” Bishop asked.

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “Benson said only six people were inside and he saw them all.”

“Thank God.”

“Brynn’s vision,” Rook said. “Fuck, she had a vision about a building on fire.”

Another vision come true. A horrible truth Bishop never saw coming.

“Did the hybrids do this?” Knight asked. “There’s no way this wasn’t arson.”

“Odds are good they did this.”

“But why a fire?”

“To rattle us. Remind us they’re out there and can get to us. Fuck.” Bishop grabbed his cell phone. Mason picked up on the first ring. “Get extra patrols into the woods, skin and armed. The hybrids were here, I’ll put money on it.”